What I Can't Have
by RaichiChyan
Summary: TatsuIchi OneShot.Tatsuki loves Ichigo. Orihime loves Ichigo. But who does Ichigo love? Maybe Tatsuki's encounter with him in the dojo will shed some light unto this mystery.


Ok, this Ichigo x Tatsuki lemon fic is for my good friend, Mello. 'Cause he needs some IchiTat dojo smex.

Note: This is very PWP (Porn without Plot): more sex, less thinking. It's a win-win. \(^-^)/

*What I can't Have*

"Ok, guys, good job at practice today! I'm positive that we'll walk away as champions at the national tournament! You all are dismissed for today!"

Tatsuki and her peers all cheered at the support and encouragement given by their Sensei, adrenaline rushing through their veins.

Sensei tossed a glance at Tatsuki, who answered with a respectful, "Yes, Sensei?"

He smiled and ruffled her hair. "Are you going to stay after to clean up again? Or do you wanna go straight home for once and actually give your body the rest it deserves?"

Tatsuki gave him a playful smirk. "As if, Sensei. Besides, cleaning the dojo helps me clean my mind and soul."

With a roll of his eyes and a gentle shove of her shoulder, Sensei bid his best pupil good-bye and left the dojo, handing her the keys to lock up when she had finished.

When all the students had left the dojo, Tatsuki's eyes fell and the energy that she had, had left her body, making her feel lifeless and dull. She sluggishly walked over the corner where the broom stood, grabbed it, and mechanically swung her arms back and forth, sweeping the dirt from left to right. She would stop now and then to rotate her shoulders and would immediately start sweeping again.

The dojo didn't get so messy that it required the everyday cleaning that Tatsuki had always insisted on doing. In fact, the reason Tatsuki had for cleaning the dojo was completely ulterior. She needed to relive her childhood memories she had in this dojo, to remind herself why she trained so hard.

Of course there was the whole "I like it, so I'm gonna do it" reason she had for joining the dojo, but, like many other things, her karate training had a much more emotional meaning to her than just wanting to do it. Despite her tomboyish demeanor, Tatsuki was actually a really emotional girl. When she had lost matches that she had trained so hard for, she would cry. When she had won matches in which many thought she would lose, she would smile from ear to ear. When she walked by Ichigo every morning on her way to class, her heart would skip a beat. When she'd see how Orihime's face brightened up at the sight of said strawberry, her heart would start to weigh her down. Yes, it was true, Tatsuki was capable of emotion. Tatsuki was in love. And it was with the love of her best friend's life.

Naturally, Tatsuki had planned to step back from Ichigo and let Orihime have him, despite the emotional pain it would cause her. That wasn't to say that she didn't dream of being with him. Nor did it ever stop her from fantasizing at night, when she was all alone in her room, that he was there with her, to touch her, stroke her and love her. So long as she never planned to live out her fantasies with her beloved, she felt as though it were ok. Orihime got to adore Ichigo from afar. Ichigo was able to be adored by the cutest girl in school. And Tatsuki got to dream of him, which kept her satisfied, since she would always have her fantasies and her best friend would have her smile. She could live like this. As long as nothing went astray.

"Oi, Tatsuki, is that you?"

Then again, when have things ever not gone astray for her?

"Yeah, it's me, Ichigo. What are you doing in here? Its past 5, isn't your dad gonna kill you for being so late?"

Ichigo stood before her, his eyes scanning her at her current activity. "Never mind that, since when have you started cleaning willingly?" he asked a hint of suspicion present in his deep voice.

Tatsuki glared at him. "Shut up!" She yelled, "I'm cleaning out of courtesy! Ever heard of it?"

Ichigo shook his head, his lips curving into a mock frown of incomprehension. "Courtesy? Nope, I have no idea what it is. At least not anymore, not since I found out that it applied to you. Who are you again?"

"Ichigo, you're such an ass!" Tatsuki growled. She missed their playful banter. They hadn't relaxed and joked around for a long time, it felt nice. Like everything had returned to normal.

After a few minutes of exchanging verbal blows, Tatsuki had realized that Ichigo really had no reason to be at the dojo.

"No reason," was his answer (just as she thought), "Just felt like coming here. For… Old time's sake, I guess."

Curious, Tatsuki just had to ask. "What do you mean, 'Old time's sake'? You're here to re-live some memories?"

He just nodded. "Something like that, I guess."

Tatsuki's heart leapt with a sudden rush of hope. The memories he had here were with her… Could it be that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same way too?

She set the broom back into its corner and stood against the wall, arms crossed, staring at the orange-headed boy in front of her. They stood like that for a while, silent, and staring at each other. It wasn't at all awkward. It was almost like a lovers' silence.

Tatsuki wasn't sure what had happened next. It all happened so fast. Ichigo sort of rushed (was it rushed?) towards her, and pinned her against the wall, the hard thudding throwing the broom off balance, causing it to hit the floor. And… What happened after that..? Tatsuki couldn't remember the order in which it happened. Did he tangle his hands in her short hair, or did he smash his mouth against hers first? Her mind was so fogged up; she couldn't even tell where she was until she felt her head gently meet the wooden floor of the dojo.

She blinked once. Twice. Three times, before she could see clearly. With half-lidded eyes, she looked up at the scene before her. Ichigo was positioned himself above her, his knees on either side of her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his hands lost in her short, black hair. She could feel his hot breath against her sensitive flesh, causing her pulse to rush faster than the norm. She could feel the heat rising to her face, and a weird, anxious feeling start to pool in the pit of stomach.

She gasped as she felt Ichigo's teeth sink into her tender skin, the result of a mixed feeling of pleasure and pain. Awkwardly, she reached up and placed her hands on Ichigo's clothed back, unsure of what to do next.

Do I take his shirt off? Do I wait for him to tell me something? These thoughts swam around in Tatsuki's mind, frustrating her, making her mad. As if reading her mind, Ichigo pressed a finger to her lips, with a grin. She stared at him, slightly confused. Gently, he nudged Tatsuki's nose with his own, before capturing her lips with his. Entranced by his surprisingly soft lips, Tatsuki paid no attention to Ichigo's wandering hands, slipping into her karate-gi, roaming her surprisingly soft skin.

What had he expected? Muscles, he supposed. After all, Tatsuki worked on her karate more than she worked on trying to breathe her vitally necessary air. But what Ichigo had found was not anything hard and buff, like he had expected. No, not at all. Her stomach was flat. And soft, yes, soft... With child-like curiosity, he tried to sneak a poke into her stomach. She reacted with a girlish giggle.

Oh, how it excited him! The thrill of having Tatsuki to himself. The thrill of being the first man to touch this girl's unsullied body. The thrill of knowing that he is the only person in the world that has seen this side of her. The thrill of it all excited him so!

He snaked his hand up her karate gi, massaging her soft breasts. He marveled at their perfection. Their perfect roundness, their perfect size (not too big, not too small), their perfect tenderness. She had started moaning with every rotation of his hand, with every squeeze of his hand, with every twitch of his hand.

Tatsuki couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She couldn't do anything but succumb to Ichigo's sinful touch. The tingling in her breasts felt so great. Her flushed cheeks almost couldn't handle the heavenly sensations. She couldn't imagine any feeling greater than this.

Then again, Tatsuki didn't have much of an imagination.

She let out a yelp when she felt Ichigo's fingers trail down her stomach and gently touch her… Tatsuki's face flushed a deep red. His fingers were nothing like she thought they would be on her tender flesh. But, all things considered, she only had her own fingers to compare them to…

His surprisingly skilled fingers teased her, and rubbed her, in all the right places. Her hips began to buck up in response to the contact, begging him for more, for so much more.

Ichigo hesitated to breathe for a second. His heart beat in his ears. God, he was nervous. Was he doing this right? He had to have been. Tatsuki's oral noises were limited to incomprehensible moans, groan, sighs, and gasps. So, with wavering confidence, he closed his eyes and inserted his index finger into Tatsuki. She arched her back and gave a loud gasp. He grinned, his confidence solid. He slid his finger out, and slid it back inside of her. Her moans sent tingles up his spine.

Unable to wait any longer, Ichigo slid off her karate-gi, exposing her nearly perfect body. Her beautiful fair skin glowed under the lighting if the dojo. Her body looked... Delicate, and fragile…

Feeling self-conscious and exposed, Tatsuki lifted her hands to cover her breasts, and crossed her legs. With a small chuckle, Ichigo peeled his clothes off of himself, not wanting to force Tatsuki to uncover herself, (although, he didn't understand why, it's not like he hadn't just touched every inch of her). After fully exposing his own body, he grabbed her wrists, ever so softly, and held her hands by her head. With his legs, he gently probed hers apart.

With a deep breath he positioned himself at her entrance, waiting for their breathing to return to normal before proceeding. He looked into her eyes. He never noticed how beautiful they were until now. Her innocent grey-blue eyes bore into his own brown eyes. She lowered her eyelashes, shadowing her cheeks. With a quick and soft purse of her lips, she told Ichigo that she was ready.

Tatsuki groaned and clenched her teeth as he entered her. It hurt, it hurt so bad. Ichigo messed up. He didn't prep her as much as he was supposed to. She opened her eyes to look up at him. His face was turned away from her, his teeth clenched, and his cheeks were flushed. She was too tight for him, and it was painful on his behalf.

Overcome with a sort of tenderness, she reached up and softly turned his head so that their eyes met. She brought his head down, and let him kiss her. This was the most painful part.

After a minute or so of adjusting, Tatsuki gave Ichigo a nod of encouragement. And so he retreated out of her, and very slowly, pushed back in, as if any sort of force would break her. She winced, just a little bit; it didn't hurt as much as it did the first time. Ichigo kept at his slow pace. In. Slide out. Push in. Slide out. Breathe. Push in.

Although she appreciated his thoughtfulness towards what would be easier on her. Tatsuki thought this pace would lull her to sleep rather than lead her to orgasmic bliss. Placing her hands on Ichigo's shoulders and digging her nails in, she ordered him, "Go faster."

And he did as he was told. The strawberry picked up his pace, lifting her legs, wrapping them around his waist.

This felt so much better. Yes… It did…

Soon, it all became a blur to Tatsuki again. She could hear Ichigo's panting, as his breathing became heavier and more erratic. She could feel the sweat that trickled down his body. She could smell the pheromones in the air around them.

She could feel her stomach turning to mush. She looked up at Ichigo, who seemed so close to finishing as well.

"Hey," she said, with a grin to Ichigo.

Confused as to why she wanted to make conversation now, of all times, Ichigo opened his mouth with a "Huh?" in response.

"Let's finish together, yeah?" She asked, childishly.

He could only nod.

Tatsuki refocused her attention to the area of her stomach where she knew the orgasm would start to pool.

Ichigo kept going, though, moving harder and faster now. It didn't seem like he was gonna cum anytime soon.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Tatsuki gripped Ichigo's shoulders and cried out his name, as she felt herself being overtaken by her completion.

Feeling her clamp around him, Ichigo threw his head back, closed his eyes, and came inside of her, satisfaction coursing through his body…

He slumped down on top of her, his body feeling tired and boneless. His orange hair was slicked to his forehead due to his sweat.

They lay like that for a few minutes, neither of them saying a word. But it wasn't awkward. It was just like lovers' silence.

That is, until, she tapped his shoulder. "Ichigo… Get up…"

"Mmm..." He grumbled, "Why…? I don't wanna…"

"We're still in the dojo, Ichigo."

"Urgh… What's your point?"

"Get up, please."

He noticed the last word, and decided that, since she asked politely, he would get up.

They grabbed their clothes, her karate-gi and his casual t-shirt and pants.

Tatsuki looked around the dojo, a smile fixated on her lips. Of all the memories she made with Ichigo here, she knew that this was her going to be her favorite. She looked over at him. He was staring at the ground.

"What's up, Ichigo?" She asked warily.

Said strawberry pointed to the area that the lovers… consummated in. There was, to Tatsuki's horror, very visible drops of sweat and cum on the ground, and, not to mention, the smell was very noticeable.

Ichigo walked over to the broom and brought it over to the contaminated area and began to stupidly sweep the mess, only succeeding in smearing it everywhere.

Tatsuki looked at him, one of her eyebrows cocked. "Why the hell are you doing that, Ichigo?"

He looked at her and grinned. "I'm doing it out of courtesy… Ever heard of it?"

*Owari*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ok, Mello, there was your IchigoxTatsuki lemon, I hope you liked it. I tried to make it lemony and kind of emotional as well… I'm not sure if it's good or not. Be gentle with your criticism, please..? Thanks much.

*Lizi*


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